The hungry year [microform]

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THE HUNGEY YEAE.

> <•»<

AUTUMN.

I'ART I.

HE war was over. Seven reil years of blood
Had scourged the land from nmuntain-top to sea ;
(So long it took to rend the mighty frane
Of England's empire in the western world).
Rebellion won at last. ; and they who loved
The cause that had been lost, and kept their faith
To England's crown, and scorned an alien name.
Pas ed into exile ; leaving all behind
Except their honour, and the conscious pride
Of duty done to country and to king.
Broad lands, ancestral homes, the gathered wealth
Of patient toil and self-denying years
Were confiscate and lost ; for they hal been
The salt and savor of the land ; trained up
In honour, loyalty, and fear of God.
The wine upon the lees, decanted when
They left their native soil, with sword-belts drawn
The tighter ; while the women only, wept
At thought of o'd firesides no longer theirs ;
At household treasures reft, and all the land
Upst't, and ruled by rebels to the King.

Not drooping like poor fugitives, they came

In exodus to our Canadian wilds ;

But full of heart and h<,pe, with heads erect

And fearless eyes, victorious in defeat.—

With thousand toils they forced their devious way

Through the great wilderness of silent woods

THE UUNQRY YEAR.

That gloomed o'er lake and stream ; till higher rofte
The northern Btar above the broad domain
Of half a continent, still theirs to hold,
Defend, and keep forever as their own ;
Their own and EnglandV, to the end of time.

The virgin forests, carpeted with leaves
Of many autumns fallen, crisp and sear.
Put on their woodland state ; while overhead
Green seas of foliage reared a welcome home
To the proud exiles, who for emjure fought,
And kept, though losing much, this northern land
A refuge and defence for all who love
The broader freedom of a commonwealth,
Which wears upon its head a kingiy crown.

Our great Canadian woods of mighty trees,

Prouil oaks and pines, thai grew for centuries—'

King's gifts upon the exiles were bestowed.

Ten thousand homes were planted ; and each one,

With axe, and firs, and mutual help, made war

Against the wilderness, and smote it down.

Into the ojiemd glades, unlit before.

Since forests grew or rivers i-an, tliere leaped

Th« sun's bright rays, creative heat and light,

Waking to life the buried seeds that slept

Since Time's beginning, in llie earth's dark womb.

Tl)e tender grass sprang up, no man knew how ;
jyiedajaies' eyes unclosed ; wild strawberries
Lay white as hoar-frost on the slopes— and sweet
The violets perfumed the evening air ;
The nodding clover grew up everywhere, —
The trailing rasp, the trefoil's yellow cup
Sparkled with dew drops ; while the humming bees
And birds and butterflies, unseen before,
Found out the sunny spots and came in throngs.

But earth is man's own shadow, say the wise,

As wisdonj's secrets are two-fold ; and each

Kesponds to other, both in good and ill —

A crescent thought will one day orb to fulL

The ground, uncovered by the woodman's axe,

Durst into bloom ; but with the tender grass

And pretty violets, came up the dock.

The thistle, fennel, muUen, and a crowd

Of noisome weeds, that with the gentle flowers

Struggled for mastery, till the ploughman trod

Them down beneath his feet, and sowed the ground

With seed of corn for daily use and food.

'.'<■

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THE HUNGRY YEAR.

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B«t long and ai laoas were their labours ere
The ntgged fields produced enough for all—
(For thousands came ere hundreds could be fed)
The scanty hisirvests, gleaned to th«ir last ear,
Sufficed not j'et. Men hungered for their bread
Before it grevr, yet cheerful bore the hard,
Coarse fare and russet garb of pioneers ; —
In the great woods content to build a home
And commonwealth, where they could live secure
A life of honour, loyalty, and pt-ace.

The century's last decade set in with signs

Of coming wrath over the forest land.

The sun and moon alternate rose and set.

Red, dry, and fiery, in a rainless sky ;

And month succeeded month of parching drouth,

That ushered in the gaunt and hungry year,—

The hungry year whose name still haunts the land

With memories of famine and of death I

Corn failed, and fruit and herb. The tender grass
Fell into dusS Trees died like sentient things,
And stood wrapped in their shrouds of withered leaves,
That rustled weirdly round them, sear and dead.
From springs and brooks, no morning mist arose ;
Thfr water vanished ; and a brazen sky
Glowed hot and sullen through the pall of smoke
That rose from burning forests, far and near.
The starving cattle died, looking at man
With dumb reproach, as if the blame were his,—
Perhaps it was ; but man looked up to heaven
In stern-lipped silence, or in earnest prayer
"Besought relief of God, or, in despair.
Invoked the fiercest storms from tropic seas
To quench the earth with rain, and loose the claws
And teeth of famine from the scorching land.

Slowly the months rolled round on fiery wheels ;

The savage year relented no*^, nor shut

Its glaring eye, till all things perished, — food

For present, seed for future use were gone.

" All swallowed up," the starving Indian said,

'• By the great serpent of the Chenonda

That underlies the grouud and sucks it dry."

While equally perplexed at suck distress^
Despite his better knowledge,—" Why is this ? "
The white man asked and pondered ; but in vain.
There came no quick response. Nature is deaf

THE HUSQHY YEAR.

i
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And voicelew both, to satisfy the heart

That needs a deeper answer than she gives.

And till we seek for light of God alone,

Putting ourself aside and ull we know,—

Learning the truth in His way, not our own,

The mystery of mysteries remains.

Sin, sorrow, death ; inexplicable ! were

There not beyond the vail a power of love ;

God in the human, infinitely like,

Who bore our pains himself, as if to show

He cannot, without suffering, pluck away

The rooted sin that tangles in the heart,

Like tares with wheat. Permissive love, that lets

Them grow together for a troubled space,

Till ripe for harvest. Lovo triumphant, when

The Reui.er conies, and life is winnowed clean

Of its base weeds, and all that's good and true •

In human souls is garnered up by Him,

Till His vast puri)08e8 are all fulfilled.

Part H.

Upon the banks of sedgy Chenonda, *
With sycamores and ghint elm trees fringed,
Backed by unbroken foi ests, far from hail
Of friends' and neighbours' help in time of need,
A house of massive logs, with oi)en porch
Oerrun with vines and creepers, fronted full
Upon the quiet stream, that, sleeping, lay
Hot in the noontide sun. A well, with sweep
Long as the yard of a ftlucca, stood
Unused and dry ; its glaring stones aglow.
Some fields of tillage., rough wi h undrawn roots
And stumps of trees, extended to the woods
That, like a wall, surrounded every sidte.
Hovels for cattle that were nowhere seen.
Stood empty near the house ; nor com, nor grass,
Nor food for man or beast was visible —
The famine for a year had scourged the land I

Upon the river- bank a I ark canoe
Just touched the shore with its recurving prow.
A woman's shawl and rustic basket lay
Beneath the paddle, thrown in haste aside
By one who came across the Chencnda

•The Chippewa.

< I

THE UUNORY YEAR.

, >

With food and tidings for the dying man

Who lay witbin the porch, unconscious all

Of help, or her who brought it. A tall man ;

Not young indeed, dun-brovrned and scarred with wounds,

Received in battle fighting for his King.

Hia fvatures, worn and haggard, were refined

By intellect and noble purposes

Which beautify the looks as naught else can,

And give the impress of a gentleman.

A face it was of truth and courage, one

To trust your life to in your hour of need ;

But twitching now in pain, with eyes that looked

Enlarged by hunger, as of one who sought

For bread he could not find ; and so gave up

To plead with God for life, and waited death.

H« lay, and in his eyes a far-off gaze
Saw things invisible to other's ken.
Delirious words dropped from his fevered lips
. As in a dream of bygone happiness.
That went and came like ripples on a pool.
Where eddying winds blow fitful to and fro—
A hunger feast of fantasy and love
That haunts the starving with Illusive joys.
And one dear name repeated as in prayer.
Clung to his lips and would not leave them ; nay,
Unspoken, one might see it syllabled
In sign and proof of his undying love.

Beside his couch, in passionate despair,
A woman knelt, clasping his hands in hers,
With kisses and endearing words, who bade
Him rouse to hope of life, for she had brought
The food for lack of which he dying lay.
Tall, lithe, and blooming ere the hungry year
Had wasted her to shadow of herself.
She still was beautiful. A lady born
And nurtured in the old colonial days ;
Of graceful mien, gentle in word and deed,
As well became a daughter of the time
When honour was no byword, and the men
Were outdone by the women of their kin—
Who spurned the name of rebel as a stain ;
And kissed their sons and sent them to the war
To serve the King with honour, or to die.

Her long black 'hair, shook loose upon her neck.

Was turning grey with sorrow at the pangs

Of those she loved and could not help. Her eyes

THB HUNGRY YEAR.

Were ftiU of pity infinite and tears ;
With ooarage in them to eneuanter anght :
Toil, pKin, or death, for sake of one she loved.

Amid the rage of famine and of fire,

That spread a consternation through the land,

It had been nimoured : food was on the way

As fast as oar and sail could speed it on I

•• From far Quebec to Frontenac," they said,

" King's ships and forts gare up the half their stores ;

Batteaux were coming laden ; while the Prince

Himself accompanied, to cheer them on !

The news flew swiftly— was itself a feast,
Gave strength and courage to the famished land.
Fresh tidings followed. One day guns were fired
And flags displayed all over Newark town.
The people went in crowdr to see the Prince—
Their royal Edward, who had come in haste
To succour and console in their distress
The loyal subjects of Lia sire, the King.

The loving wife upon the Chenonda

Had heard the welcome news— in time, she hoped.

To save her husband, overwrought with toil

In fighting fire among the burning woods.

And prostrated with hunger, till he lay

Helpless and hopeless, drawing nigh to death.

With woman's energy, that's born of love,

O'erpoweriiig all her weakness, she resolved

To save her husband's life or for him die.

With tearful kisses and with fond adieux

And many prayers, she left him in the charge

Of one old faithful servant, born a slave,

And now a freedman in hia master's house.

And traced with desperate steps the trackless woods

And smoking morasses, that lay between

Her forest home and Newark's distant town,

To buy, not beg, the bread for which they starved.

She reached the town ; befHended everywhere—
For each one knew all others in those days
Of frank companionship and mutual aid-
She saw the PrineOj the flower of courtesy,
Who listened to her tale, which, ere half told,
Prompt order went to grant beyond her prayer.
And bread and wine, and all things iifeded else,
3y messengers were sent to Chenonda.
A royal gift, bestowed with royal grace.

THE ffUNOR r TEA R. 0

With word* of kindeat sjcmpathy and che*r,
Which of all gifts are those men hold moat dear.

The Prince knew well, of no one but the King,
Or in hid name, would these proad loyalists
Keoeive a gift. " But this," he earnest said,
" Was not a gift, but royal debt and due
The King owed every man who had been true
To his allegiance ; and owed most to those
Who fought to keep unbroken all the orb
Of England's empire, rounded like the world."

With fit and grateful words she thanked the prince.

And took his gift and royal message, full

Of gentlest sympathy for their distress, —

Nor rested longer than the first palo streak

Of morn upon th' horizon rose, ere she

Set out for home, with treasure more than gold :

Bread and the Prince's message, and rettimed

The way she came, outstripping, in her haste.

The messengers who followed in her track.

She reached at noon her home on Chenonda,

Too late, alas ! for one had outstripped her I

Death, like a phantom, had run on before

And entered first, and smit down whom he would t

Their faithful servant lay upon the ground,

Dead in his master's service ; worn end spent

With hunger, watching, sickness, and a care.

Not for himself, but those he loved and served, —

A faithful man and loyal to the last.

And yet a sadder sight did meet her when.

Upon the couch, she saw her husband lie,

All fever flushed and dying, gazing wild

With oyien eyes that saw her not ; and mind

That wandered crazily o'er thousand themes ;

And her, the theme of themes, unrecognized !

She threw herself u^ion her knees, nor felt

The stones that braised her as she shrieked, and gazed

With startled eyes, and wildly called his name ;

Who, deaf to her appeals, talked heedless oa,

In his delirium, with words that pierced

The inmost memories of her woman's heart.

" 0 Minne I Minne mine ! Where are you, love ?
Come to me, you or none ! " he dreaming said.
Unconscious of her presence, or the ^ud
That smoothed itis hair, or lips that kia^^d his brow.
" 0, Minne mine ! what hinders us to-day

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TffE HUNORY YEAH.

To climb the mountain-jummit tbrou^h the broad
Autumnal forest, dropping leaves of gold
And scarlet on our heads as we go on ? "

His fevered thoughts strayed back to autumn days
When he had wooed his lovely bride ; the flower
Of Shenandoah — all gentleness and grace,
When, blushing with the consciousness of love,
She gave her willing hand and pledged her troth
One day beneath the spreading maple trees ;
Whose leaves were flushed with crimson, like her cheek,
And life, that day for them, seemed first begun !

" 0, Minue mine ! my beautiful and true ! "
She listened to the unforgotten words.
While grief and terror mingled with the joy
That used to greet their memory in her heart.
"Loving an I loved, each one in other blest,
To-morrow is our happy wedding-day !
The oriols and blackbirds gaily sing,
Mad with delight, upoa the golden boughs,
Their song of songs. To-morrow is the day !
To-morrow ! 0, my love ! I hear a chima
Of silver bells in heaven, ringing clear ;
To-morrow is their happy wedding-day ! "

His words shot straight as arrows, through and through ;

The sweetest recollection of the past

That nestled in her heart and, fed with love.

Lived there encaged, her bosom's bird ; now rent.

Displumed and bleeding, 'neath the shaft of death

Her tears fell hot and thick, and oft she kissed

The pallid cheek and pressed the hand upled

Her to the mountain-top, and held her thero

In dalliance sweet and fond affection's thrall ;

While the broad world beneath them opened wide

Its fairest treasures to their raptured eyes.

Soft Indian summer floated in the air,

Like smoke of incense, o'er the dreamy woods ;

So still, one only heard the dropping leaves

Of forests turned to crimson, brown, and gold.

In myriad tints, to craze a painter's eye.

For Nature's alchemy, transmuting all.

Gilded the earth witJ- glamour, rich and rare,

As if to give the eye, weary of this,

A transient glimpse of fairer worlds to be

She wept and listened as he still spake on :

" Thank God for autunm days ! 0, Minne mine !

THE UUNQRY YEAR.

11

In autumn we were wed, in autumn came
Our love's fruition, wben our babe was born.
In autumn, when the laden orchard trees
Dropfied ripest apples, russet, red, and green ;
And golden peaches lingered past their time :
And richest flowers of brown October bloomed :
The gentian blue, crysantheina of snow.
And purple dahlias ; flowers that bloomed again
A year away, with amaranths, to strew
The grave of our young hope— the first and last-
Who died enfolded in thy tender arms."

She listened, with a look of wan despair.
As he recalled their early bliss. We drink
With bitterness the tale of former joys
Retold in misery. Yet, drink we still,
Kissing the chalice which we know will kill !
She watched, consoled, repeated oft his name,
In hope of recognition ; but in vain.
No wandering syllable escaped his lips.
Though faint as dying breath ; but she divined
Its full intent, and with a woman's ken.
Saw that his love was perfect, to the core
Of inmost dreams. The thought with human touch
Let loose the tears surcharged her swollen heart.
.She wept and listened as he still spake on :

*' 0, Minne mine ! in autui? too, we lost

Our smooth-faced handsome boy ; our Raleigh brave,

A stripling full of courage, and athirst

For honour in the service of the King.

He died in front of battle, by my side.

In that hot day we won at German town.

I bore him in my arms from 'midst the dead

And buried him beneath the autumn leaves.

In the still forest, by. a boulder stone. .

I took thee once to see it — all alone,

"We two as one ; and there we wept as none

But fathers, mothers weep o'er children gone. "

Her heart was torn at mention of her boy,
So good, so dutiful, so early lost.
And for a moment a fair picture flashed
Up ixom the gulf of buried yeara. She saw
Hinii with his baby feet, as sea pearls pure, '
Essjiy, with awkward prettiness, to climb
Up to her knee and bosom to receive
A fitorm of kisses each time for reward.

W^S

12

THE HUNGRY YEAR.

He ceased to speak and breathed with fainter breath,
Like one forspent, and losing hold of life ;
His hand grasped tightly hers, as if it were
His last sheet-anchor in the sands, that failed
To hold his bark amid the storm of death.

Part III.

The hunger fever left him ; and he lay

Awake, resigned and calm, to meet the end

He knew was nigh, but feared not, save for her

Whose yearning eyes bent over him with love

And pity infinite. His noble face

Had brightened with a gleam of holy light.

That sometimes shines in death, to cheer the gloom

Of that dark valley of the shadow, when

Our hour is come ; when from the couch of pain

We must descend and go, each one alone, —

Alone — to travel ou a darksome road

We know not ; but, when found, a king's highway !

Broad and well beaten ! None may err therein 1

Made for all men to travel ; and not hard

For those unburthened and who humbly take

The staff God offers all, to ease the way

Aad lead us wondering to the vast beyond.

The " Help of God" is Death's strong angel called.
Who brings deliverance frt»m this world of care ;
Azrael, who casts his sombre mantle off
Upon the threshold ; and in robes of white,
With loving smiles, will lead us on and on,
Out of the darksome valley to the hills,
Where shines eternal day for evermore I

He lay and looked at her, remembering;
l.'he things had happened until all was clear.
"0, Minne mine ! " he m irraured, •' I have been
Unconscious of thy presence and return !
The fever overmastered me, and grief,
When our old servant died, with none to aid ;
And I fell ou my c .uch and knew no more.
But some one said to-day, or did I dream ?
The woods are all ablaze and roofed with fire
Up Chenonda, and down the deep ravine.
The marshes, dried like tinder, catch the flames ;
The very earth is burning at the roots.
While savage beasts tumultuous, rush and roar

ihM

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THE HUNGRY YEAR.

13

In rage and terror from their burning lairs I

How could I risk thee, love, to go alone

Amid such dangers as would daunt a man t

To seek for help in Newark's distant town,

Where haply help is not — or needed more

Than in our forests Everywhere, they say,

The iron grip of famine holds the land ;

And men have long since shared their household corn

To the last handful, and therj's nothing left !

She stooped and kissed him tenderly, with lips

That trembled in an ecstasy of fear,

What might betoken all the signs she saw,—

Then told in broken accents how she sped :

" I care not though my feet werw bruised or scorched

Treading the burning forests, if I brought

Good news, my love, to thee, and help to all

The famished dwellers on the Chenonda ! "

Then she recounted in his eager ear,
That drank her words as summer dust the rain,
How England's Prince had come ! and Newark town
Was hung with flags j and cannon pealed salutes
To welcome him from old Niagara's walls !
And she had seen the river margin thronged
Wilh broad batteaux, all laden down with corn.
Brought by the Prince in haste, to help and save
The King's true subjects in the forest land.

A gleam of joy across his features shone,
As when a sudden ray escapes the sun,
' Shot through a cloud rift in the wintry sky,
Athwart the old gray Mississaugua tower ;
Where it stands desolate, on guard no more
Over Ontario's ever-changing sea.

" God bless the Prince ! " he said, *• 'Tis princely done

To bring, not send the help we sorely need !

A gift is sweetest from the giver's hand

When face to face we look and understand

The soul of kindness in it to the full.

And one may take King's gifts and feel no shame,"

He said, to reconcile his manly pride

To take a gift as alms from even him.

•'For he is ours and we in fealty Ms.

We hold this land of England and the King

Though all the se\ en plagues around us cling ! "

Then addtd, iit a tone of fervent prayer :

" Bless we Prince Edward's name for evermore ! "

^te.

14

THE nUXOHY YEAR.

She told him of his royal courtesy,
And tender words of sympathy for him
And all the loyal people, doubly scourged
By fire and famine in their forest homes.
She told him of the messengers by her
Outrun, but following in haste with food
To aid the dwellers on the Chenonda,—
While she had brought a basket in her hand
For present need, until the men arrived
With waggon train and plenty for them all f

" Thanks for God's mercies I " said he. " Thank the P. ince
And thee, my love, for all that thou hast done 1
1 now can die content. The country's saved !
Content to die— except in leaving thee."

He turned upon his couch and lo.iked at her.
As if his heart were bursting with the thouf-
"0, Minne mine ! " he whispered, " bend thy ear
As thou didst in those happy autumn days
When I first claimed thy hand and oil thy love.
As thou wert to me then, so be thou now !
For now a greater sorrow waits us both
Than then, if possible, our mutual joy.
Together we have lived our life of love
In perfect oneness. Now apart ; one dead
One living, shall we love alway as now ?
I hear thee whisper yes, O Minne mine I
Then be it so ; for there is nought to fear ;
Though fall between us the mysterious vail
Which hides from mortal eyes the life beyond,—
The vail that is not lifted till we die. "

Between those two that vail did never fall I

She heard, but only in her inward ear

His dying whispera, as she speechless lay

Kneeling beside his couch ; nor marked that day

Had fad. d in the west and Night had come,

Bearing upon her shoulder, draped with cloud.

The harvest moon, that made the very sky

About it black, so silver clear it shone.

The south wind rose. The smoke which filled the air

Far down upon th' horizon rolled away ;

While shorn of radiance in the moonlight clear,

The stars looked blankly in the porch and saw,'

With eyes as pitiless as stony fate,

A sight had melted human eyes to tears.

The rustling sedges on the river-side

TUB HUNORT YEAR.

Alone made moan about the oonoh of pain,
Now still forever,— all was silent elae,—
. True man and loving woman — both were dead !

The Prince's messengers came quickly ; but *
Too late to save, and found them as they died,
With hand and cheek together, — one in death,
As their fair love had been but one in life,
The last sad victims of tha Hungry Year,
Where slu/jgish Chenonda comes stealing round
The broken point, whose other side is lashed
By wild Niagara rushing madly by,
Afoam with rapids, to his leap below.
An ancient graveyard overlooks the p'ace
Of thunderous mists, which throb and rise and fall
In tones and undertones, from out the depths.
That never cease their wild, unearthly sonj?.
Among the oldest stones, moss-grown and gray,
A rough-hewn block, half-sunken, weather-worn.
Illegible, forgotten, may be found
By one who loves the memory of the dead
Who, living, were the founders of the land.
It marks the spot where lies the mingled dust
Of two who perished in the Hungry Year.
Few seek the spot. The world goes rushing hy

The ancient landmarks of a nobler time,

When men bore deep the imprint of the law
Of duty, truth, and loyalty unstained.
Amid the quaking of a continent,
Tom by the pa»isions of aa evil time.
They counted neither cost nor danger, spurned
Defections, treasons, spoils ; but feared God,
Nor shamed of their allegiance to the King.
To keep the empire one in unity

And brotherhood of its imperial race,

For that ^bey nobly fought and bravely lost.
Where losing was to win a higher fame I
In building up our northern land to be
A vast dominion stretched from sea to sea, —

A land of labour, but of sure reward,

A land of corn to feed the world withal,

A land of life's rich treasures, plenty, peace ;
Content and freedom, both to speak and do,
A land of men to rule with sober law
This part of Britain's empire, next the heart
L >yal as were their fathers and as free !

Niagara, Ontario,
October, 1878.